


Better Than Anything Else That I've Tried

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Homecoming, Kitchen Sex, Late at Night, Love, M/M, Memories, Multi, Rimming, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Written for the prompt: ❝ nothing taste better than chocolate. ❞ - flinthamiltons
Relationships: Miranda Barlow/Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton, Miranda Hamilton/Thomas Hamilton/James McGraw
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Better Than Anything Else That I've Tried

There was a time when he dreamed of Thomas constantly. Nights where all he had to do was close his eyes and Thomas would be there. That familiar face, that beloved mouth curved into a welcoming smile. There are a hundred memories to choose from and still not nearly enough to satisfy the heart’s wants. There is never enough and there never will be.

There are times now too that he remembers how it was, with the three of them. How seamlessly they had become linked together. How he thought that chain would never break until it had been broken for them.

But before that…his mind carries him back to that happier time. Miranda would invite him to tea in the afternoon when his duties were finished. It became a ritual between the two of them, a precursor to what is to come. They would drink their tea and converse and gaze at each other and by the time the tea was drunk, one of them would begin.

There were rooms in that house that James only remembers by smell at times. Miranda's parlor is one of them. The sharp woodsy smell of the fire burning away. The lemon and milk in the tea. The scent of violets on Miranda’s skin as he kissed her neck.

And too, the scents of Thomas’s study, stay with him long after the memories had dimmed. Rows and rows of books that he had leaned against and pressed his face into the spines, drinking in the aroma of the pages, as Thomas gasped and thrust behind him. The fragrance of light rain through the half open window, a risk they had allowed themselves that evening and so James had kept his lips pressed together and his moans to himself, even as Thomas’s hands entreated him further and further to fresh heights of pleasure.

* * *

It is in the kitchen though that he first tastes chocolate in their home, hot and sweet and rich on his tongue. It’s late, past midnight and the maids are gone to their beds in the attic. The butler is asleep as well. And Miranda desires something hot to drink.

She wraps herself in herself in her dressing gown and leads James by the hand down to the kitchen. The floor is chilly underneath his bare feet. He had not bothered to put his stockings back on after they had fallen into bed together. Now, clad only in his night shirt, he draws closer to the fire, still burning in the kitchen.

Miranda busies herself with heating the chocolate and he watches her attentively. Her face is still flushed from their lovemaking. Her hair is loose and he knows the texture of it in his hands, the soft silken feel of it on his fingertips, and on his skin, as she rose and fell over his chest.

“Nothing tastes better than chocolate on a cold night.” Miranda declares, hanging the pot over the fire and stepping back, pulling her dressing gown a little closer. Her feet are bare as well and she keeps them on the warm stones by the fire.

“I can think of one or two things.” James murmurs.

She looks up at him, laughing at the innuendo, and pleased with it too. She loves the way he lets himself go with her. The freedom he’s found in her in bed. Hers, and Thomas’s.

And then she looks over her shoulder and her eyes widen in delight. He know even before she speaks that Thomas is home.

* * *

“Welcome home.” Miranda’s arms wrap around Thomas and he buries his face in her shoulder. His eyes close for a moment and the relief there is apparent in the weary lines of his face. James wants to ask, was the visit to his father’s country estate truly that wretched? He can see that it was.

And then Thomas lifts head and looks at him, smiling as he comes over to him.

Thomas’s hair is damp with rain and James raises his hand to bring his fingers through it before he can stop himself. It’s allowed. The thought is still startling to him. He caresses Thomas’s hair and Thomas leans in to kiss him.

“I missed you.” Is but a murmur upon his lips.

“And I you.” James tells him.

Thomas takes in the mugs of chocolate on the table, the cozy fire, the warm kitchen in the late of night.

“It’s pleasant to find you both here. I thought to find you in bed, where it’s warm.” He removes his coat and hangs it beside the door. The scullery maid will find it tomorrow when she goes to light the morning fire and wonder at the lord leaving it there. But it will cause no harm. The household is loyal to their master and mistress, and the coat will be back where it belongs before the house has fully awakened to the day.

“It’s warm down here.” Miranda declares, her eyes on the fire.

James reaches for the poker before she can say anything, stirring the fire up further.

“Then why are your feet freezing?” Thomas chides as he reaches for her. He lifts her easily, setting on her the kitchen table, and Miranda laughs, settling her arms around his neck.

“The better to warm them up now.” She murmurs. She rubs one foot along the inside of his calf with a mischievous look.

Thomas smiles at her. He kisses her softly before whispering something gently in her ear and Miranda laughs, the sound delicate as bells in the clear night air.

James looks up from the fireplace. There is a surge of heat within him that has nothing to do with being so close to the flames. Sometimes his desire for the two of them threatens to overwhelm him. He wonders what it will take to prove his love, and damps the thought back down again.

“James.” Miranda says softly, and he rises, setting the poker aside.

Thomas is lazily undoing the ties of her dressing gown and laying it open. His hand cups her breast briefly as he leans in to press another kiss to her mouth.

He steps back briefly to remove his coat and boots and James takes the opportunity to slide his fingers up over the silk of her nightgown to the v of her thighs.

Miranda’s breath catches as he rubs her lightly through the silk.

Her lips part and he kisses her, continuing to tease her clit.

Thomas comes up behind him, only a fraction shorter without his boots. (An endless source of amusement to both James and Miranda.) He presses a kiss to the back of James’s neck and slides one hand over his backside.

“Keep going.”

James obeys as he feels Thomas continue his path of kisses down his back.

Miranda opens her legs, pulling him closer by his night shirt. It’s her turn to tease him, stroking him through the material until his arousal can be concealed no longer. Only then does she pull the night shirt up and draw him to her.

She’s still slick from earlier and James can’t hide how it feels to sink back inside her. Miranda’s hands play over his chest, teasing his nipples through his nightshirt, and she knows, by god she knows, exactly what she’s doing to him. What she always does, and he thinks again they don’t realize how closely bound he is to them. How willingly he let himself be bound by love.

He moves a little faster inside her as he senses Thomas kneeling behind him. He knows now where this is going and his heart beats faster too.

James feels his shoulders hunch reflexively and then release. Thomas’s hands smooth over his skin. The first brush of his tongue sends sparks skittering outwards over James’s body,

There is a brief repression of a groan, and he realizes belatedly, the sound comes from his own throat. He looks into Miranda’s eyes and she’s smiling. He can feel her trembling around him, as she gets closer and closer. 

His cock keeps moving as Thomas’s tongue explores him. He can’t speak. Perhaps there are no words necessary here. And then, oh, all too quickly, it’s too much, too much sensation, the quick fleeting thrusts of Thomas’s tongue, Miranda’s heat possessing him. He comes in a rush, knees nearly buckling with pleasure as Thomas clasps his thigh, his mouth still buried between James’s cheeks.

Miranda throws her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest as she comes with a sharp cry. His cock softens, still exquisitely sensitive in the aftermath of her pleasure.

James pants, holding her, still trying to regain some measure of control. There’s sweat on his skin, and the scent of their sex lingering in the air. The chocolate is forgotten on the table, but it matters little. They’ve been warmed already after all.


End file.
